


Stunted

by xRabbitx



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Pining, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 21:43:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17108636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRabbitx/pseuds/xRabbitx
Summary: Jamie has cooked up an impressive motorbike stunt to try and catch attention of the president of a local gay biker club. But seeing as Jamie is Jamie, something is bound to go wrong, isn't it?





	Stunted

**Author's Note:**

> Written for The Roadrat Charity Zine 2018

*

 

Okay, okay, so maybe Jamie’s excitement about going to The Boot Heel wasn’t 100% about wanting to hang out with his two best friends. Maybe, _maybe_ , he had ulterior motives for wanting to go, and _maybe_ he mostly brought Lucio and Hana to have an excuse to go in the first place, because going on his own would be too sad/suspicious. But that was all pure speculation on Lucio and Hana’s part, Jamie informed them loudly and dramatically as they were walked down the street a Friday night, and he was honestly wounded that they would ever suspect him on not putting his friends first at all times. It was simply rude, and he was shocked they would even think such a thing. Here he was, spending his hard earned money on spending an evening out with his two best friends, and they accuse him of only using them as an excuse? He was horrified, appalled, hurt even.

            Hana and Lucio exchanged looks, and Jamie instantly knew he had taken things too far. They weren’t buying what he was selling, and Jamie’s brain immediately began exploring other lies he could try and feed them to avoid them finding out his true reason for wanting to go to the Heel as often as he did.

            “Bullshit,” huffed Hana and shook her head, making her long, dark hair flowing around her good-looking face. Jamie knew of at least five different guys who would gnaw off their own arm for a chance to date Hana, and although he had never had the same impulse (being gay and all), he couldn’t honestly blame them. She was smart, funny, and extremely pretty, and she could down five beers in one sitting without breaking a sweat.

            “What Hana’s trying to say,” Lucio interjected, ever the mediator, with his signature friendly smile, “is that we know why you keep wanting to go, and it’s okay. You don’t have to make up excuses, Jamie. We’ll go with you anyway.”

            Lucio and Jamie had known each other for so long that Jamie had forgotten how they had even met. As kids, they had hung out every day after school; Jamie had brought Lucio into his dad’s workshop to show him all the different things he’d pulled apart and rebuilt, and Lucio had taken Jamie to his grandma’s house to play her old records of old-time funk, blues, and disco. Jamie had never really been into music, and Lucio had never really been into mechanical stuff, but each made the subject interesting for the other, just because they were such good friends. Now Jamie was making a small living as a mechanic with a flair for pyrotechnics and fireworks making, and Lucio was trying to build himself a name as a DJ and producer. Jamie still didn’t care much about music, but he loved listening to Lucio talk about the newest track from his favorite band or artist, and Lucio seemed to tolerate it when Jamie went off on a tangent about the car he was currently working on or some insane explosives stunt he’d seen online. It was a give and take friendship. How Hana had managed to insert herself into the otherwise cement solid unit that was Jamie and Lucio, neither of them knew, but she had, and there was no getting rid of her now.

            Jamie opened his mouth to argue, to say that he had no idea what Lucio was talking about, but he already knew that it was no use. They knew, and they knew that he knew that they knew. He sighed.

            “D’you think he even knows I exist?” he asked and picked at the peeling black nail polish on his left hand.

            “Jamie, I think everyone in that bar knows you exist,” Hana said without looking up from her phone. “After that last stunt you pulled, it’s going to be a while before they forget about you.”

            “Yeah, the helmet is still sitting on that roof,” Lucio added.

            The stunt _had_ been spectacular, and he had the bruises to prove it. The stunt had nearly cost him an arm, which would be pretty bad since he was already missing his right arm and leg. He only had so many limbs left. Getting banged up would be worth it if it meant that he had gotten the attention of Roadhog, the mountain of a leader of the Biker Bears, which was—as the name suggested—a gay biker gang. Apparently, they had opened a chapter in the area, and this Roadhog (Jamie didn’t know his real name, and he wasn’t sure anyone actually did) had come all the way from Auckland to lead it. There were some rumors going around that Roadhog had to get out of New Zealand due to a warrant on him, but there were different rumors on what the warrant was for; some said relatively harmless theft, others said much more serious things. Jamie didn’t believe in rumors, and even if he did, he was much too fascinated and, okay, horny for Roadhog to let them deter him. If he ever got to talk to Roadhog, he could ask. That’s how Jamie saw it, and it was how he’d seen it ever since he had first laid eyes on Roadhog almost three months ago. Jamie had been walking down the main street of the shit stain of a small town he and his friends lived in when he and everyone else had heard a loud roar. He had looked up and watched as a dozen bikes roll down the street, all of them black with various flames and skulls painted on them. The gang would honestly have looked like any other motorcycle gang if it hadn’t been for the rainbow flags billowing behind some of the bikes, and the earth-colored rainbow patches with paw prints that almost all the bikers wore of the back of their vests. The only person who really stuck out of the gang was the guy in front, the leader. He was wearing a pink helmet with pig ears sticking up from the top and a big snout painted on the front, and his face had been hidden behind a black bandana and a pair of dark sunglasses. Jamie had felt like time had slowed down—just like it does in those cheesy rom coms—and he’d been staring after Roadhog like an idiot. Roadhog hadn’t seen him, though. Or if he had, he didn’t show it. Not too long after, Jamie had discovered that the Biker Bears had made a bar on the outskirts of town into their regular haunt. It seems that they came here every day to hang out, play pool, and whatever else biker gang members did in their spare time. Some of those things probably involved criminal activities, but Jamie wasn’t actually sure. No one in the small town seemed to know what the gang actually did other than driving around on their bikes and drink at the Heel.

            “So, are we gonna go?” Lucio asked and interrupted Jamie’s thoughts.

            “Yeah! Just—uh, just hold on a tick, yeah?” Jamie said and jumped up from the ratty, old leather couch he’d been lounging on. It was the most comfortable piece of furniture in his tiny apartment, so it was there he spent the most time, which was obvious judging from the state of the couch. He had tried to mend the cracked leather here and there with patches, but in other spots, he’d been picking at the stuffing during one of his nervous fits. Other parts of the couch were covered in stickers, some fresh, others peeling, and scribbles were littered all over the couch in general from when Jamie had had the idea to give himself a pseudonym. Junkrat. He’d been trying to get people to call him that, but he hadn’t been very successful. It looked terrible from an objective standpoint, and Hana had been bothering Jamie to get rid of it for years, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it; he’d had a lot of experiences on that couch, including his first kiss, and his first panic attack, and it felt wrong to just kick it to the curb.

            The mirror in the bathroom was cracked and generally in the same condition as the couch and everything else in the apartment; Jamie had more important things to do than to clean. Like right now, he was busy trying to tame his hair. His hair seemed to have a mind of its own, and no matter what Jamie did to it, it refused to get out of its regular state, which was the strange halfway point between puffy, frizzy, and curly. How his hair did that, or where it came from, Jamie had absolutely no idea, but it had always been like that. He still had nightmares sometimes about when he was a kid, his mother would lose her temper with him and his ridiculous hair and buzz it all off. Coming bald to school the next day had been torture, and she had done it so often that Jamie still had a couple of bald spots where the hair never really grew back. The therapist, who had treated him after child services had picked him up, had said that balding wasn’t an uncommon response to stressful and/or traumatic experiences. Jamie poked one of those spots. He had been hoping that his hair would come back again, but it had been 10 years now, so it looked like he was stuck with those spots. He was so pale, and his hair so light, that it wasn’t super obvious anyway.

            Jamie squinted at his own reflection. He wasn’t pretty, nope. But his plan was to pull a stunt so spectacular that Roadhog would notice him and maybe even befriend him. Jamie wanted a lot more than friendship, but that was naturally impossible, because… (Jamie grunted at himself in the mirror and rolled his eyes) so Jamie would happily settle for friendship. But first Roadhog needed to know that Jamie existed, and that was the purpose of tonight’s excursion. Operation Get Noticed By The Sexy Biker Daddy. Yes, perfect! With a huff of determination, Jamie rubbed his pits with his too-old deodorant stick (was Nervous Twink Sweating Fucking Buckets a scent?) and left the bathroom.

 

.

 

            Even though he knew it would be there, Jamie’s heart still skipped a beat when they parked outside The Heel and he spotted Roadhog’s bike parked outside. There had been added a gigantic rainbow flag on the back of it, and Jamie’s heart skipped another beat.

            “I’m going to die,” he said out loud, making the others in the truck turn to look at him. “I mean, this stunt is definitely going to kill me, but even if it doesn’t, this perfect fucker is going to do me in just by bloody looking at me.” He made a frustrated gesture in the general direction of Roadhog’s bike.

            “Seriously, dude, you’re making me kinda nervous about that stunt,” Lucio said from the passenger seat. “Especially since you ain’t telling us what it’s about. That makes me _really_ nervous.”

            “It’s fine,” Jamie huffed, still staring at the damn flag—how could one man be so perfect? “The only reason I’m not telling is that I’m worried you’ll try and talk me out of it, see?”

            “Don’t say that shit, man, that just makes me even _more_ nervous!” Lucio retorted and rubbed his hands over his face.

            “Well, don’t,” Jamie snorted. “I’m the one doing the bloody stunt.”

            “Oh my _god_ , can we just go inside?” Hana groaned from the back seat and rolled her eyes before shoving the door open and jumping out. Lucio and Jamie followed. Hana usually refused to set foot in Jamie’s shit heap of a truck, but it had been the only choice tonight, because Jamie was bringing an old bike he’d found at a junk yard and spent a few weeks bringing back to life. It was not very big, and the large, Japanese letters on its side were peeling, but that didn’t matter. Jamie only needed it for this stunt, and then he would send it off to live on a farm somewhere.

            “Just, uh, go inside and get us a table, yeah?” Jamie said to the others as he climbed onto the bed of the truck to untie the bike. “I gotta—I’ll be right in, alright?”

            While they others went inside, Jamie untied the bike and dragged it to the edge of the truck bed. It occurred to him that he should have asked one of them to stay behind and help him get the bike down, but that was too late now. Maybe if he just…? Jamie let out a yelp when the bike toppled over and landed on his leg with a crash. He experienced a moment of total panic until he realized that the bike had landed on his prosthetic leg. That leg has been through a lot worse, so it would take more than a rouge bike to seriously damage it, which was apparent from all the scratches and cuts the fake shin had suffered over the years. The main problem, though, was that his stupid fake foot was caught in the machinery, and it was staying right where it was no matter how hard Jamie tugged at it.

            “Fuck me,” Jamie huffed and wiped his sweaty forehead on his jacket sleeve. The night was too hot to wear a leather jacket, and it only took a few minutes of struggling before he was sweating like a pig.

            “Need a hand?”

            “Yeah, thanks, mate, could y—?”

            Jamie, who had been in the middle to trying to fish his phone out of his pocket to text for help, froze mid-sentence as he turned around and found himself face to face with Roadhog. It was the very first time Jamie had seen him this up-close, and that only made things so much worse. He never realized it before, but Roadhog’s eyes were blue. His skin was dark, his hair was dark (and grey), but his eyes were brilliantly blue. This almost threw him more than the fact that Roadhog was actually talking to him.

            “Hello?”

            Jamie blinked, and his brain, that seemed to have frozen completely, thawed in a second and started going a million miles a minute to make up for lost time.

            Roadhog just stared at him with obvious confusion. He looked old, but not in a bad way. Weathered was maybe a better word. Whatever the word was, Roadhog was bloody handsome, and Jamie really should say something right about now.

            “Uh, right! Yeah, uh, sorry, mate, I was just thinking about this bonzer stunt I’m gonna do later,” Jamie blurted out, while trying really hard not to panic over the fact that he had to look like a complete tit. Too late.

            Roadhog just looked at him for a moment, but then he let out a grunt that sounded a bit like a laugh.

            “Stunt, huh?” he asked as he climbed onto the truck bed. “What kind of stunt?”

            “A bike stunt,” Jamie explained while going increasingly pink in the face as he watched Roadhog lean over him and the bike slightly to assess the situation. “The most brilliant bike stunt you ever saw, mate.”

            “Hm. And you’re doing it tonight?” Roadhog continued, scratching his tattooed chin. Jamie had always found Ta Moko tattoos amazing, and he had always secretly wanted some, but he was way too non-Maori, way too white. He got a pierced lip instead.

            “You bet!” Jamie said, heart pounding in his chest at the thought that Roadhog would actually be watching this time. “I mean, yeah, I was thinking about it. Y’know, if I’m bothered.” Way to play aloof, Jamie, you bleeding wanker.

            Roadhog just hummed in response, then grabbed the bike and lifted it. He lifted it clean off Jamie’s leg, like it had the weight of a fucking piece of paper, and Jamie knew right then and there that he was in love.

            “You good?” Roadhog asked. There’s a bit of a strain in his deep voice.

            “Yup, yeah, I’m gay— _good!_ I’m good, mate,” Jamie replied with a nervous giggle, but when he tried to pull out from under the bike, his foot was still stuck in the wiring. “Wait a tick—fucking—will you just _get off!_ ” No matter how much Jamie tried to wriggle the fake foot or tug at it, it was stuck. There was only one solution.

            “What’s going on?” Roadhog sounded a bit impatient at this point.

            “Sorry! It’s just—there we go!” Jamie said as he quickly pulled up the leg of his ripped jeans and untied the straps around his knee, so he could pull his leg out of the prosthetic. “There! You can put her down now.”

            Roadhog put the bike down on the truck bed, but then his face changed from mild amusement to outright horror for just a second before he started laughing. It was a deep, rumbling laugh, and he clapped both his enormous hands to his just as enormous belly, while it jumped up and down in time with his laughing. Jamie had never been more attracted to anyone in his entire life, but he didn’t really get what Roadhog was laughing about.

            “Fuck,” Roadhog wheezed, and he pulled out a pink inhalator from the pocket in his deliciously tight jeans to take a whiff to avoid what sounded like a pretty nasty coughing fit. Once he had caught his breath a bit, he continued, “I—I thought your leg’d fallen off!”

            Jamie just stared while Roadhog was sent into another laughing fit so violent that it made the entire truck shake.

            “Oh, this old thing?” Jamie snorted and lifted the prosthetic up, so Roadhog could see it. “Had it all my life. Well, not this _exact_ leg, you know, but yeah… you know. Anyway, I’m Jamie.” Jamie grabbed the chance to change the subject and get away from his own awful attempts at humor, because it increasingly felt like he was digging his own grave.

            “I know who you are,” Roadhog said, still hiccupping a bit, and held up a hand. “I’m Mako.”

            Jamie couldn’t quite decide whether he felt like he was dying, because Roadhog knew his name or because he now knew Roadhog’s name! Mako. Makoooo… Shit, Jamie’s hand looked really small in Mako’s giant mitt.

            “How’d you know?” was the only response Jamie could muster while staring up at Mako like a complete idiot, but he promptly forgot all about that when Mako suddenly looked… shy?! Jamie thought he was imagining things, but nope. Mako, the gigantic, tattooed, leader of a biker gang, grown, adult man, actually had the nerve to look shy as he started fiddling with the “No Pork!” button on his vest.

            “I may have asked around,” Mako then muttered.

            “About me?”

            “Yeah.”

            “But… why?” Jamie didn’t get it. Why would the leader of a biker gang ask around about him? Unless it was to beat him up, but Mako could have done that long ago instead of helping him with the bike. It didn’t make any sense.

            “Saw you on Main Street when we drove into town,” Mako explained, although he still seemed very interested in fiddling with his buttons. “You were at The Heel a few days later, so I asked some locals who you are. I thought you looked—cute.”

            Mako didn’t look up or meet Jamie’s gaze at all when he said this, and Jamie had to literally pinch himself to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

            “You—what? But how come you’ve never said anything to me before?”

            Mako just shrugged in reply and kept looking strangely adorable for such a huge, scary man. Jamie scratched through his hair, still not entirely convinced this was really happening. Did this mean that he could ask Mako out? In Jamie’s daydreams, it was always Mako who had swept him away, taken him into his strong arms and carried him into the sunset, but it looked like it might be Jamie who was going to do the sweeping around here. If he had the nerve to do it, but honestly? Finding out that this gorgeous man thought Jamie looked cute was probably the biggest compliment Jamie had ever gotten, and confidence was already bubbling in his belly.

            “So, uh, you want to get a coldie?” he then eventually forced himself to ask while feeling slightly faint.

            “What about your stunt?” Mako finally looked up from his damn buttons and met Jamie’s gaze.

            “Stunt? Oh, I mean…” Jamie pointed to the prosthetic leg still stuck in the bike’s wiring. “I don’t reckon that will do, do you?”

            “Probably not, no,” Mako said, and he sent Jamie a small, awkward smile, which just about killed Jamie dead right where he sat. Mako jumped down from the truck with a grunt, then gestured at the entangled leg and bike.

            “How about I get the coldies,” he suggested, “and you sort that out in the meantime.”

            “Right, ace idea,” Jamie agreed with his heart leaping in his chest. He watched as Mako made his way back inside. When Hana texted Jamie a few moments later, asking if he had “died or something”, Jamie just grinned and texted back, “Pretty much, yeah”.

            It was obviously a joke, but when Mako later held Jamie’s hand, Jamie was actually convinced that he had died and gone to Heaven.

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out the [amazing art done by Mozg](http://mozg-art.tumblr.com/post/181309485690/so-this-is-my-piece-for-the-roadratcharityzine) that goes with this fic!


End file.
